Training Private O'Hanrahan or vice versa
by TheLionTree
Summary: written for #falloutKinkMeme.  Private O'Hanrahan is one of the Misfits.  He's a terrible shot, but all he really needs is the firm hand of Currier Six. Ala wink nudge nudge.


_Another one__ for the Fallout Kink Meme. Blame PervyMonk for getting me hooked on these._

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><p>"You're an awful big one," the courier whispered into O'Hanrahan's ear as she reached around his shoulders to show him how to steady the rifle.<p>

"Gosh," the ginger haired private responded as he stood up suddenly, shaking the athletic woman off of him. "Uh, maybe we shouldn't do this, Uh; my mommma told me to be careful of women like you."

"Your momma's gonna be awful disappointed if you go home in shame because you couldn't shoot the broad side of a barn. Now hit the dirt private, I think there's a few things you still need to learn."

Courier six looked over the large red headed recruit, he had to be over eighteen, but his life experience was that of a child. It was sad that any day now he'd be drawn into a battle over a Dam in order to keep Vegas free from a tyrant. She thought about this big farm boy rushing into the thick, his gun held high, his spirit strong, and catching a Legion machete in the head because he didn't know how to fire his weapon.

Remorseful for having failed the courier O'Hanrahan drug his foot through the dirt and avoided her gaze as she watched over him. He _was _a big fella, and the Courier smiled as she wondered exactly how big. Reaching forward she put a small hand on his massive bicep and grinned at the young man, "you know I could teach you a ranger trick that helps them steady their gun, but you're going to have to trust me."

A light shone through the hopeful eyes of Private O'Hanrahan, he smiled at the Courier with perfect trust. "Sure, that would be great ma'am! I really wanna shoot my gun better so I don't let my squad down."

Chuckling to herself the Courier motioned at his belt "take your clothes off, lay down on the ground, and close your eyes."

Trepidatious, O'Hanrahan's finger hovered over his belt, then he whispered at the woman, "It's a sin."

"What is?"

"Uh…being naked when yah aren't in the shower or putting on your clothes."

"Who told you that?"

Wobbling like the nervous teenager O'Hanrahan was, he smiled softly and said, "My mom. She said Jesus don't like no half naked savages."

"Mmmhmm, I thought so," The small woman responded as she moved her hand gently down his chest, noticing that he held his breath as she did this. "You know you're born naked. 'Naked a man comes from his mother's womb, and as he comes, so he departs.' It's the state you were naturally born in, so how can God hate that?"

"I…I don't know."

"You want to be a good solider right? You want to save nice women like your momma from Caesar's Legion? Well instead of listening to that old bird, why don't you try what I say? I'm a nice person right? I'm trying to help you O'Hanrahan, but for me to do that you're going to have to help me help you," The Courier followed up her explanation running her hand across his chest again, and then turning so back was facing him. "See, I'm not even looking."

"Well, if you're not looking," O'Hanrahan responded, as he started to unbuckled the simple leather belt that held up his uniform. Making short work of his clothes, the Private folded his garments neatly and set them on top of a rock nearby. He sighed and laid down, his eyes pressed closed more out of nervousness than orders. He was there for what seemed like forever, the hot sun beaming down baking his flesh in places it was normally protected, and causing a thick bead of sweat to run down his muscular chest to his back.

"Try to relax honey, I promise, this will help with your confidence and steady your hand," the Courier said with an oddly husky voice. O'Hanrahan clinched his hands, pumping them nervously, when suddenly he felt a soft hand on his stomach. Gasping he opened his eyes, and saw the Courier hovering over him, naked in the desert sun, in her eyes a smoky fire that he both feared and wanted.

"But my…"

"Now is not the time to whine about your momma, what momma don't know can't hurt her," the Courier said as she startled O'Hanrahan by grasping his half erect cock and giving it a gentle pull. Closing his eyes was all he could think to do while she continued tugging on him gently, her lips making soft, moist, impressions on his chest and stomach. A groan escaped his mouth and the Courier silenced it with a kiss.

O'Hanrahan remembered the first time he'd kissed a girl, Suzzy Pinkman, under the harvest moon one night when the November winds were starting to cool off the nights. His mother had caught him and beat him for his lust. The memory caused a mild panic to stir in his chest, making him to wiggle under the Couriers attentions.

"Hold still you naughty boy," the Courier ordered as she removed her hand from his cock, and slid both of her legs around his waist; her heat so close he could feel it radiating out from her. He ground his hips upwards instinctually as she reached down and pulled his hands towards her breasts. Soft skin pressed between his fingers, and began to need at it like a clueless kitten, causing her to bite her lip a little.

The courier shifted back, sliding a slick slice of heaven against his aching member, and grinded herself against him. He groaned too, sliding his hands around her back and pulling her close to him so he could kiss her neck. She smelled like sweat and a musty odor unique to women that caused him to arch up against her wetness, eagerly.

"Try to hold on their babe, it gets better, I just need mine first," said softly.

Looking up into her big brown eyes he could see the man he'd always wanted to be, proud, strong, loyal, and capable. He saw children, a small farm near a river, and a woman hanging clothes on the line. For him the Courier became this warm Goddess writhing on top of him; her hips eagerly grinding out a shiver that started in her lower back and erupted as a groan from her mouth. As her body rocker over him, he responded by pulling her close, noticing how soft and pliant she seemed in his arms. Skin almost glowing; as if she'd swallowed the moon and it was trying to escape out of that sweet curvy body, she kissed him on the cheek affectionately.

Regaining her composure she whispered, "It's your turn," and started to press herself down on him slowly, her body prying open and slipping his cock into a cave of hot muscle that squeezed him in ways he never thought possible. She brought herself up, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts thrusting just over his face, perspiring from the heat. He gulped and met her movements with his own, his hips following her in a steady yet sure way. He wondered if they were made to fit together in this moment, in this place, and that thought faded into the back of his brain as pleasure began to shoot through his body, erupting in steamy torrents inside of her.

Gasping for air she rolled off him and they laid in the open air, the sun evaporating the moisture from their bodies. Some time passed, she stood up against the sky, giving him a unique view of the curve of her ass. He smiled and reached for her and she shushed him.

"Grab your rifle. We seem to have attracted the attention of a mole rat."

Following her orders swiftly O'Hanrahan grabbed the carbine from the nearby rock that was holding his clothes. Looking down the scope of the rifle, he crouched and drew his breath. He found the creature about forty feet from them, sniffing the air curiously. He held his breath and pulled the trigger, watching as the animal's head explode.

"I nailed it!" he announced happily, hugging the small woman next to him. His hug turned into a forlorn look, as he pressed her close to him.

"I love you," he muttered.

"No you don't kid. Like every straight male you love getting your dick wet, don't' get the two confused. Now I think we have your little aim problem solved. Do me a favor, don't go spreading this around and running my reputation…It's not every day I sleep with a ginger haired farm boy."

A feeling of disappointment settled over him for a second as he realized this wasn't a great expression of loved like he had hoped it would be. It wasn't even marriage, which would make his mother irate, but he choose not to care about it. For all he knew he'd be dead in a month, and what good was a virginity when you were another corpse in a pile. The couple quietly dressed and went their separate ways, the courier off to train more privates, and O'Hanrahan off to the showers to clean up.

Stepping into the water he realized that she'd given him something other than sunburn and the dangerous threat of heat rash. He felt more confident, assured. He'd always been teased for being a red head, and he thought a good looking woman like the Courier wouldn't ever go for a man like him. This lack of confidence undermined a lot of things he tried to do, but something about her being willing to trick him into sleeping with him, well, it made him feel special.


End file.
